Bound
by jin0uga
Summary: They are bound. A connection which defies world-lines. The laws of causality. Time. (Spoilers for true ending)


_They are bound._

 _A connection which defies world-lines. The laws of causality. Time._

 _It matters not whether the physical manifestations of Okabe Rintarou and Makise Kurisu are torn away from one another by the cruel hands of fate._

 _For it is certain, that they will find their way back to each other again._

* * *

 **He is a rounder. And she, his captive.**

"Oh give me a fucking break." The man sitting the opposite of Okabe growls, his glare increasing in intensity. He slams his handful of cards onto the makeshift table – the pitiful thing wobbling under the force of the strike. As if trying to spur him on, their prisoner begins reciting her theorems even louder, and Okabe's eyebrow twitch as the beginnings of annoyance nip at his calm psyche.

The man's eyes have narrowed so much that the pair of whites look like slits on his brown skin. Okabe does not know his name, but he knows enough to stop him before that explosive temper finds an outlet in the bound captive.

"M2." The codename slides off Okabe's lips as his twists them into a warning sneer. The man dubbed M2 freezes in mid stance, the cigarette bud dangling from his lips, and plops back down in his seat. The rickety, aluminium chair wheezes under his weight, but it holds. The emotions bleed off his face, and he regards Okabe with a thin lipped grimace before his eyes dart back to the cards.

Okabe doesn't expect him to apologize, they never do, but the mere action of obeying his commands is enough to send a lightning bolt of satisfaction through him. He feels respected. And where there is respect, a healthy dose of fear trails behind it.

The captive raises her head up and mocks M2 with a smug glare, but it withers when Okabe pins her with a stare, a warning in his cold, lifeless eyes. She winces at that look, for some reason she always does, and her voice drops into a whisper. He can still hear the tail end of the words that spills from her lips, but he finds the low volume comforting enough and leaves her be.

Kurisu's gaze never leaves Okabe's side profile, and she stares at him, wondering why the sight of that stubbled, calm face makes the feelings of pity and hurt rise in her.

* * *

 **They are prisoners. One robbed of his most important person, and the other, betrayed by hers.**

Her knees finally give out on her.

She falls to the floor with all the grace of a dying gazelle and slams face first into the floor. The sound sends the guards rushing into the room, but their stiff demeanour relaxes into an annoyed one when they realize that she's only collapsed. It's not the first time, and it probably won't be the last.

One balding man makes to kick her, but Okabe shoves him with a fierceness that doesn't reflect the trembling and fearful mess he truly is inside. The guard stumbles and exchanges looks with the other two men lingering near the doorway. One of them nods, and that's all the warning Okabe gets before the butt of a rifle smashes into his mouth. Now it's his turn to stumble, and he barely catches himself by grabbing the edge of their work table.

The taste of blood fills his mouth and makes him sick, and he spits it out before the images of Mayuri's mangled bodies come to mind again. He doesn't need to have an episode right now. SERN might turn a blind eye to one scientist in a state of shambles, but two would just have the rounder's breaking into their cells at night to bury a bullet in their brains.

Yes, they were useful in the race to build a time machine.

But. They were not _needed_. And that, makes them expendable.

As Okabe wipes the blood from his mouth, the pain making his eyes water and his fingers uncoordinated, the deep heckling laughter of the guards make themselves known as they return to their stations outside of the workshop. Leaving a bright red stain on his already dirty lab coat, Okabe bends down to shake his partner awake.

"Christina. _Christina_!" His voice slurs as the throbbing in his mouth intensifies.

She blinks awake, her eyes hazy. "Don't…" She coughs, "Don't call me that."

Okabe ignores her reply and his fingers dig into the flesh of her shoulders. "You're not eating the food they gave you." He accuses, taking in her sunken cheeks and her flaked lips. "You have to eat Christina. If you continue like this, you'll die."

"Good." Kurisu smiles weakly, her gaze still unfocused.

"Dammit, Kurisu!" Okabe explodes, his grip tightening. "Don't do this. Please don't do this anymore." His voice drops into a whisper. " _Don't leave me alone_." He begs.

She doesn't hear him, her mind already leaden with sleep. The sounds of her breathing makes Okabe's throat tighten, and he weeps silently as he continues working on PhoneWave (name subject to change) and imagines the cameras on the walls bursting into sparks of bright lights and setting the room on fire.

* * *

 **Her sight was stolen from her. So, he becomes her eyes.**

Kurisu tilts her head to one side, the pads of her fingers gliding over the slippery surface of the flower stem. She is confused and rightly so.

"Okabe," She calls out and hears him walk towards her. She holds up the single stalk of flower, most likely a thornless rose, while her other hand tugs at the edge of his coat. "What is this for? Did something happen?"

Okabe clears his throat and throws his head back to let out his signature laugh.

"MUAHAHA, I shall tell you what has happened, my darling _Christina_! Just a few hours ago, I have received news that your attacker will have his freedom taken away and confined to the safe house that is _prison_. A splendid turn of events, seeing as they have decided to shield him from the wrath of this Insane Mad Scientist!"

He cackles and rubs his hands together. Kurisu sighs tiredly. His antics weren't as irritating as they used to be, but did he still have to put on that chunnibyo act even when delivering such important news?

Okabe, no – Hououin Kyoma goes into another fit of crazed laughter before a warning pinch to his arm stops him abruptly. He shakes her hand off him and crosses his arms, trying not to pout. This assistant of his didn't have a single cute bone in her body, he surmised sulkily.

"Enough of that." She chastises, "Tell me what they wrote about him. In fact, just read the whole article out."

She hands him the morning newspaper, which Mayuri had brought over when she dropped by to give Kurisu a bunch of bananas, and carefully sat back down on the sofa. At the mention of _him_ – the instruments of vision that were once her eyes throbbed almost knowingly.

While she had gotten over the trauma of being attacked by her crazed father, her body still couldn't forget the memory of the pocket knife, gleaming under the flickering florescent lights of the hallway, the unfettered rush of pain pain _pain_ as it was slashed across her face. The last thing she'd seen, was Okabe tacking her father onto the ground before her everything went black. Literally.

The mind may heal. But the body never forgets.

She hears her boyfriend grumbling petulantly but smiles when he takes the paper from her anyway. He sits down beside her, his lips quirking up into a small grin when she leans on him to rest her head on his shoulder, and begins to read aloud.

"Shouichi Makise, or publicly known as Doctor Nakabachi, has been sentenced to-"

* * *

 **He has nothing. Is nothing. She gives him something to live for.**

Raindrops the size of marbles plummet down from the grey skies. They scatter upon impact. Kurisu clicks her tongue when the spray of water wets her sleeve, and hurries through the streets. The envelop is crushed against her jacket, but she has more important things in mind. Like whether or not she left her windows open before she leaving for work. And besides, she has at least two hardcopies of her manuscript tucked away at home.

Kurisu yelps when she nearly loses her footing as she turns down the bend too quickly, but manages to catch herself. The desire to be home has only grown stronger, and the idea of spending the evening under her electric kotatsu has never sounded more appealing.

Her house finally comes into sight, and she breathes a sigh of relief. The sound of her breathing is eclipsed by a clap of thunder, and the sharpness of it makes her flinch.

As she turns down another bend, she sees a dark figure huddled near the walls surrounding her house. Her heart jumps, and her step falters. Despite the growing fear, her legs continue to function and bring her closer. At the sound of footsteps, the man huddled under his worn, brown coat raises his head.

Their eyes meet.

Okabe shudders, a wave of vertigo smashing into him. His matted hair, thoroughly soaked by the pouring rain, clings to his forehead like a drowning man would a raft. He quickly breaks their eye contact, shaking away the bout of nausea that overcomes him. He doesn't give it any thought. After all, stranger things have happened.

"Spare change, miss?" He says, his words drowned out by another clap of thunder. Kurisu watches him with fascination, and feels a pang of pity when he buries himself deeper into the coat. It looks ready to be ripped apart at the seams.

"I…sorry, I don't have any on me at the moment." She replies lamely, her face flushing. The man gives her a small smile and tilts his head to show that he understands. Kurisu steps past him, her eyes never leaving his shivering form. And in a sudden burst of spontaneity, she opens her mouth and asks–

"Would you like to come in? At least, until the rain lets up."

Okabe's head shoots up and he stares at her in surprise. The surprise melts into gratefulness, and he quickly pushes himself off the ground before the stranger takes her words back. He staggers after her, the brown coat pressed tightly into his chest.

"Thank…you." Shivers rack his frame, and Kurisu's lingering doubt fades away completely.

"Makise Kurisu." She gestures to herself and smiles warmly, unsure of why she feels so comfortable. She's never one to be overly friendly, and inviting a homeless man into her home was supposed to feel _stupid_ , and not so…right.

"Okabe. Rintarou." His voice is harsh and weathered, but his gaze is warm. "Nice…to meet you."

* * *

 **And sometimes, their meeting is merely the choice of Steins;Gate.**

* * *

"I'm not Christina, and I'm not your assistant you idiot!" Kurisu replies crossly.

Silence.

Okabe's jaw flaps, and he stares at her in disbelief. The annoyance in her expression changes into one of shock and he watches as her eyebrows narrow in confusion.

"I…" His thoughts were broken when Kurisu spoke up again. "Why did I say that? The words just suddenly came to me." She breathes, looking increasingly unsure of herself. She runs a hair through her striking red hair, an action he recognizes as her nervous tic.

And then he remembers. Faris. Lukako. Mayuri. At some point, all of his friends had gotten back parts of their memories from the worldlines he'd time leaped from. He had brushed it off then, but now the strangeness of it was finally rearing its head.

He remembers what Suzuha said, and his eyes light up at the realisation. "Everyone...has the Reading Steiner." Okabe murmurs and shakes his head.

"Huh? What are you–"

"Christina!" He says, cutting her off mid-sentence. She jumps when he extends him palm towards her, the LabMem badge grinning up at its rightful owner. Kurisu tilts her head and Okabe smiles wryly.

"Welcome back, lab mem #004." He says before embracing her.


End file.
